<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Had and Held by stateofintegrity</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130193">Had and Held</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity'>stateofintegrity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MASH (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:14:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,326</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles discovers the unlikely effects of his voice on a certain Corporal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Had and Held</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He woke because there was a sound with which he was not familiar- and because his toes were cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of these conditions were the fault of Charles Emerson Winchester III. The noise was soft snoring that made Klinger stifle a giggle (Winchesters </span>
  <em>
    <span>snored</span>
  </em>
  <span>!?) and he’d lost his socks sometime in their gentle tryst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t expected Charles to allow it, but, lying shoulder to shoulder, they’d seen to each other with slow, gentle touches. Klinger’s eyes had never left Charles’ face - something the Major had seemed to really like - and Max had begged him quietly to let go. What Charles had done… he squirmed deliciously, remembering. He hadn’t removed the lacy stuff he’d been wearing- he’d just lifted him out - and he’d been so, so careful not to let him spill on it, wiping him off with a handkerchief as his stomach had spasmed from an overload of sensations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Savoring, caught up in this reverie, he gasped when he was gently caught and lifted onto a strong chest, naked feet burrowing for a pocket of warmth. He felt Charles kissing his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you realize, my darling, that you talk in your sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger shook his head; he didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to feel himself secure in Charles’ arms, to feel his warm skin, the muscles of him bared to his tracing touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your words were very sweet, very, ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>flattering</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Well, if he’d gone and said </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was just the truth; hadn’t he had his fingers on it and barely wrapped around? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his head to look in his eyes, unwilling to leave the hollow of his throat. “Nothing you didn’t know, right, Major?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the contrary. No one has ever been so kind to me. No one has ever, ah, wanted me in that fierce way you seem to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger reached for his hand and kissed his fingers. “I won’t stop,” he softly swore. “Taking care of you or wanting you. I haven’t- not since you got here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that is the case, why did you not ask me before?” It was almost painful: to imagine he could have had </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>in place of the gin mill smell of the Swamp and his cold cot and Hunnicutt and Pierce’s endless babbling, their too-real affection which he could feel but outside of which he was permanently exiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know - about a hundred good reasons. Dishonorable discharge, didn’t want you to hurt your hand when you punched me - wouldn’t Potter skin me if that happened? - You’re rich and smart and high class… you need any more?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That will do. You really believe any and all of that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seemed pretty damn likely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max… and yet you took the risk anyway? What are you saying? That your desire overwhelmed your caution and bade you be so sweetly reckless?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>plan </span>
  </em>
  <span>to,” Klinger defended himself. “I’ve wanted you bad before- lots of times. I know how to take care of it - down on my knees facing the cot so I can say your name right into the blankets and pretend it’s you. It’s just… your mouth went open just a little and I thought it might be worth it - letting you break my nose and my heart both - if I could just know what you taste like, how warm you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles let him feel it again, kissing him fiercely until he whimpered. “Let me tell you something that I think will please you. Max, you are not the only one who has been on his knees over this. I… I am not brave. I do not know if I could have ever approached you, ever asked you, though both my sister and Pierce have encouraged me to do so, but to not kiss you back… I </span>
  <em>
    <span>had to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, do you understand? I would have had to even if a gun had been held to my head. You felt… well, my fantasies of you were proven very pale substitutes very quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told </span>
  <em>
    <span>your sister </span>
  </em>
  <span>about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I have never been in love before. I had to tell someone.” He traced the curve of his face. “That I have often been brusque and insulting to you, I know and regret, but did you really imagine that I might </span>
  <em>
    <span>strike</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger shrugged, wanting his touch to return. “I’ve been hit a lot. Not for… you know, not because I was kissing anybody. Or even wanting to.” He looked frustrated at his inability to explain. “I’m sorry, Major… I don’t… I’m not as smart as you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles held him as he hoped to </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>hold him. This was rather a great deal of upsetting information for dawn. And it presented </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurts he needed to correct. Charles did not care for forked paths. “You are uneducated,” he corrected gently, feeling mean for even saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “but you are very, very bright. You do not need to push yourself with me. Explain slowly if the topic requires it - it pleases me to listen to you and to have you near. So, no more of that, yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger nodded, wide-eyed. No one that he had ever encountered spoke like Charles. Certainly no one had ever spoken thus to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Did Charles think he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>become </span>
  </em>
  <span>educated? Not like a surgeon obviously, but in </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He promised himself to ask when their relationship was not so very new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Charles sounded genuinely relieved. “As to the matter of being hit, I think that you have recently been made aware of the fact that I value your toughness and your strength just as much as I value your softness and sequins, so I do not think that it will injure your pride if I absolutely insist that if such a thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>happens again, you will permit me to help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger had never witnessed fury come to Charles’ eyes; it was as if a calm lake froze solid- ice black and airless - then began to shatter, the ice exploding in deadly shards. “You - you wanna help me? With </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Major, you’re not exactly the brawling type!” As a man in a dress, Klinger was accustomed to taking a bit of abuse from folks that passed through; not every unit was as accepting as the 4077th. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, so, yes, it is my preference that no one touch you at all - but certainly that no one touch you in anger. If I must become a ‘brawler’ as you call it in order to keep you free of bruises, then I shall do so. In other words, permit me the privilege of protecting you. I think you will find I have a knack for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger’s eyes had closed sometime during this speech. He kept them shut to say, “Hey Major, when I was talking in my sleep, did I happen to tell you how much that voice of yours gets to me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not believe you did. But as I have recently told you, I am always happy to listen to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemme see if I can think of how to say it, then. Part of it is just because it’s part of you, right? And everything that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>… I want to be around. Even if you didn’t love me,” this was said with lowered eyes, a newness that was obviously being savored, “I’d still want to hear you. Part of it is the words - you say things and I can see them, like a movie in my head. And the way you say them. I guess it’s an accent and probably other people talk like that, too, but I don’t think I’d hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>them </span>
  </em>
  <span>in a room full of people, all of ‘em talking their heads off - but, boy, do I hear you! Have ever since you showed up. I, uh, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, too. In my stomach.” He looked at him for approval but Winchester was staring, fascinated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max, are you saying that I can,” he thought a moment, reaching for the vernacular rather than the medical, “ ‘turn you on’ with my voice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger gave a hurried nod, hoping this was okay. “It’s not just that you can, Major. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A lot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” A series of happy descriptors rotated through his mind: charming, delicious, fortuitous, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “And do you think,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>my precious little Corporal, my own, my unexpected prize in this hellhole, </span>
  </em>
  <span>“that I could do </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> if I tried?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on his face told him that Klinger wasn’t sure what he was asking, exactly. Well, there was nothing wrong with being a bit explicit at need. “Do you think,” he tried again, “that I could make you, ah, fall apart… with just my voice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger’s eyes snapped shut; his skin paled, then flushed. “...yes..,” he managed, the word a tiny whimper of sound. He added, quietly, “I think you could make me do almost anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we find out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm-hmn. If it fails, I promise that we shall return to something more conventional. I am sure I can do more with my mouth than speak with you to inspire me. You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>bewitching</span>
  </em>
  <span> you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger trembled; this was a new word and it had a new flavor. Sans an answer, Charles went on. “Do say yes. It will allow me to tell you what mad thoughts you conjured in me the very first time I saw you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger nodded and Charles situated him on his lap, draped sheet between them. Klinger tried to stay still, but he wanted to rock back against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winchester smiled lightly; Klinger’s form - raised up, leaned slightly forward like a ship’s figurehead - </span>
  <em>
    <span>radiated </span>
  </em>
  <span>attention. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could probably </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>quiz </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>you later and you’d come back with verbatim answers! </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Do you remember the first day we met?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Major. I wanted to know what color your eyes were, but I couldn’t look in them too long.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you remember what you were wearing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you will know that I am telling the truth when I tell you that I wanted to lift that gold and white gingham over your hips and take you bent over a foot locker.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to move at that, though it was less rocking and more of a grind… and he began to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hate that sheet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles didn’t seem to notice. “Worse, I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to wear a condom.” His fingers traced the air over the Corporal’s body, a nearly hourglass shape. “Can you guess why, sweetling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger moved side to side, hungry for what he could practically feel. “No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted you to feel it, later. Me, drying on your skin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger moaned at this and Charles rewarded the noise. He smiled at the smaller man’s surprise when he drew back. “I said I wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” he reminded him. “Not that I wouldn’t kiss you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Major…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say my name, Max. Say it the way you’d say it if you were taking me. I would permit you, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathed harder. “No condom?” he bargained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would not allow you enough time to put one on, I fear. I would want to feel you as deeply as I could as quickly as I could.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charles…!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better. That was all in the past.” He traced the air between them again, made Klinger arch up into his hands. When he failed to reach them, he whimpered with wanting. “You are so beautiful, Maxwell.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And so very, very close. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Major…” He squirmed side to side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can feel what you do to me, can you not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to! I want to feel more of you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spend for me, then.” He lowered his voice so that it rumbled in his chest, purred near to the pretty Corporal’s ear. “Please, my darling? For me? Let me see you trembling, Maxwell. Let me know that you are mine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger made a low sound in the back of his throat. Bending forward, almost in half, he put his head on Charles’ shoulder. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let me stay here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the gesture said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please. Let me stay where you are. Let me stay here, always</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Charles…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles turned his head, kissed his neck, and smiled against his skin. “I love you, Max.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger let out a long sigh, and gave him everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he stopped shaking and opened his eyes, he was fully in the arms of the man who’d just given him so forceful an orgasm that he was positive three vertebrae had fused - with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>voice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Kicking the sheet away, Klinger settled more deeply into his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> using a condom?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are quite certain?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to worry, Major. I don’t know what your dance card’s looked like over here, but I didn’t wear a white wedding gown for lack of other colors in my closet. Got it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles froze. “Max?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger traced his lips. “How do you get all those ‘a’s’ in my name? I like it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not upset, are you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Disbelieving, only. Max - why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was engaged when I left for basic. Got married over here - then divorced. You can show me what to do, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be most pleased to lead. You will speak to me, though? Tell me if I am, ah, on the right track?  Pleasing you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Assured of this, Charles laid him back and knelt to kiss up his legs, sucking raspberry marks into his skin. Max watched him, eyes widening as Charles readied him with an expert touch that quickly became decadent as he found just the right spot. Max’s hips twisted and he moaned. Charles smiled as he ground down, trying to get closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Anything you want, my dear. Always.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a promise for all their shared days and Max kissed it from his lips, taking it into himself as he took the other man - and what he took he meant to keep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The end! </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>